TUNA FOOD/
by Harvey Sage harvo1@comcast.net
His hands bound behind him, Peter was thrust into a chair. Ouch! The room was dark paneled and had a plush red Persian rug. Across from him sat a hugely muscled, bald headed monster of a man. Exuding disdain, he scowled at Peter’s thin wiry body topped with its shock of blond, salt encrusted hair. The monster spoke in a surprisingly low and level tone, his face framed by the elegant brass porthole behind him.
"Just what did you and your cohorts expect to gain by cutting the nets we were towing?"
Though shaking with more than a tad of trepidation, Peter stared right into the monster’s bright blue eyes. "You are killing Blue Fins. Cutting those nets was saving their lives. God gave us the responsibility to care for animals and we were fulfilling our mission."
"Oh really?" The monster’s eyebrows raised in near perfect arches. His eyes seemed to glow as he continued. "Do you have any idea what we were going to do with those tuna?"
"Yes. You catch Blue Fins and kill them and sell them." Peter was proud to reveal that he and his group, Save the Tunas, knew all about the workings of Ocean Harvest Incorporated.
Flexing his muscles, the large man showed a huge chest beneath his purple silk shirt. Peter knew that the monster could rip him into pieces in a second. "Yes, we do catch Blue Fins. But the ones that you freed were not captured tuna. They were cultivated from induced birth. We were transporting them from their birth area in Indonesia to a new site. So you see, we are very good stewards of our creation. You could say that we are God’s loyal servants."
"Oh? You created. Excuse me, but aren’t you being presumptive?"
"Perhaps. Here on this ship I am the captain, which is the same as God. You cut these tuna loose after a trip of five thousand miles. Do you realize how much trouble you and your pals caused?"
Peter hung his head, waving off dizziness, and answered in the negative. He was getting very tired. This had been an exhausting enterprise, one which had cost him and his friends dearly.
The huge man stood and began circling Peter as he spoke, causing him to tremble as the man’s voice crescendoed, ever so slightly. "Here are the facts. You cut three out of five nets. Each net encircled 100,000 cubic meters of water. In each net there were approximately 100 tons of growing tuna. 100 tons. Have you any idea what 100 tons of tuna, of Blue Fin tuna, is worth?"
"Gee. No. A few thousand dollars maybe?" Peter didn’t like the fact that the big man was standing directly behind him. Did a snapped neck hurt? He looked down at the man’s brightly buffed shoes and contrasted them with his own worn sneakers. He was counting on the verse that said "Blessed are the poor." He needed all the help he could get right now.
Monster man’s laugh was derisive, not pleasant or hearty. "A full grown tuna can fetch almost 200,000 dollars a fish. That’s translated into hundreds of dollars a slice. Sushi and sashimi are highly prized, not only in Japan, but world wide."
"Yes. That may be true," Peter shot back. "And that’s why these fish are over harvested and on the verge of extinction. The ignorance of people in their lust for a good meal has created the class of fish killers like yourself. People spending hundreds of dollars for a lunch of sushi is obscene! All we are trying to do is to restore sanity to the world’s approach to wildlife." Taking a deep breath after this tirade, Peter went on. "Instead of us using the tuna for a meal, how would we like it if the shoe was on the other foot."
The huge visage reappeared in front of Peter and stopped. "I can see your point. You and your people meant well. At the harvesting rate of 100,000 tons per year you surmised that Blue Fins would soon die out. But your calculations left out something. I intend to educate you and to test your theory. Now."
A button was pushed and the captain’s cabin door opened. Peter was picked up by two burly crewmen and firmly led along the passageway and down some steps to the fan tail at the stern of the ship, the huge captain following leisurely behind. Peter’s four surviving comrades stood there also handcuffed, unsure of their fate. He wondered, where were the others? Oh what a noble task Save the Tunas had set before itself. Interfere with commercial fishing. Cut nets. Hound the boats. Contact the media. Put these ghouls out of business. But they never figured on being chased by speedboats with crews of armed men. They never figured on being captured after their own boat was riddled with gunfire and sank. After all, these were supposed to be just fishermen.
The five remaining captives stood on the blood soaked deck in front of a large mechanical device which loomed ominously before them. The captain spoke. "In order to offset the losses due to commercial fishing, we of Ocean Harvest incubate Blue Fin eggs, hatch them, and allow the fish to grow. We keep them in pens, in those nets you destroyed, each holding 100 tons of tuna worth 10 million dollars. You people have destroyed thirty million dollars worth of our property. How do you intend to repay us?"
No one spoke. The captain cracked his big knuckles and continued. "Breeding Blue Fins is not easy. Water temperature must be right for each stage of their development. Light and dark cycles effect them as does variance in salinity and pressure. Even the flow speed of their water is crucial. Which is why we drag them across the ocean. It’s all important. We have spent a lot of time and money on research to make sure it is all done right. Then you so called environmentalists come along and destroy 60% of our herd."
The captain’s face was livid. "But we will allow you to make full restitution. We will let you cast your bread upon the waters, so to speak." Three of the crew began to laugh derisively.
Peter was torn between relief and an unconscious gnawing at the back of his head. What did this guy have in store for them? How could they pay back thirty million bucks? He said a brief and silent prayer for help. Didn’t the Bible say to seek God and He will be near you?
"We have discovered that Blue Fin love to eat. They love regular fish, shell fish, coral, and even sponges. Finding the right mix to feed them is not always easy. Then we discovered that they love- nay crave- ground up red meat such as hamburgers." The captain began to chuckle. The crewmen continued their laugh. Even Peter and his friends expressed a sigh of relief.. "Imagine. From two dollar McDonalds to hundred dollar slices of sushi. Now, that’s progressive capitalism, wouldn’t you say."
Anxious to please, Peter and his friends nodded a hearty yes.
"So my friends. You can now help us by supplying our remaining tuna with a juicy meal of fresh red meat."
Peter’s blood froze as he saw the captain gave a signal. He shook uncontrollably as he heard the click of a switch. The big mechanical device in front of them started, making an awful high pitched grinding sound. The hatch to the grinders was opened and the monster grabbed Peter to push him where the missing companions had gone. Not desiring to become food for the tuna, Peter steadied himself to resist. How does one resist a man much stronger than himself? Peter went with the force of the monster’s push, then cut to the side just before the hatch. The bigger man, taken by surprise, was carried by his own momentum across the slippery floor into the hatchway. He reached out to grab for something, anything, to save him from the grinders. He caught hold of a fistful of salt encrusted hair which he held on to for dear life. But his weight and forward motion were too much to stop him.
For a few seconds their screams were louder than the grinding. Then, as a stream of red gore shot out the machine’s chute to the hungry tuna eagerly churning in the nearby net, the machine was finally shut off by a fear filled crewman and all was silent.
Brief Bio: I, Harvey Sage, am a retiree who has many years of writing experience. I’ve published a newspaper, written a book, and have written for local news periodicals.
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